Low Man Is Due
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
30
Views:
21,752
Reviews:
98
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
30
Views:
21,752
Reviews:
98
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
I fall because I let go
Erm, really sorry about the delay between updates. Same old excuse, bloody work, and just as I had a holiday I got a chest infection (URI for our American cousins). So, thank you very much to my reviewers, and to those who have waited for this chapter.
WARNING: Unpleasant fic. You know the score.
Chapter 9: I fall because I let go
Harry shook weakly at the words. Snape was going to ‘train’ him? To do what? To like what Snape and Malfoy had done to him? To want to be violated and abused and tortured? He choked back a sob, hating his own weakness. He couldn’t take more of their treatment; it was beyond his strength, beyond his capabilities to understand. What did they gain from treating him so cruelly?
“Power.” Snape responded, as Harry had unconsciously voiced the last statement in a pain wracked voice.
“Control.” He went on, pacing across the room to collect the training equipment.
“Pleasure.” He added as he returned and stood looking down at the shivering figure on the floor.
“You will die here, Potter. Die here begging for mercy and for help that cannot come.”
Harry sobbed once, deep in his throat, like a dumb beast beaten for it knew not what.
“Or, you will escape.” Snape glowered down at the boy, eyebrows drawn low over his unfathomable eyes. “Perhaps one day rescue will come.” The older man sounded dubious. “But you must still be here to be rescued. Therefore you must learn to survive what they will do to you.”
He pointed his wand at Harry and watched expressionlessly as the youth shrieked and writhed uselessly on the floor, twisting and turning like a trapped animal, seeking freedom, an end to the pain burning into his overtaxed muscles and, it felt like, slashing the bone from his arms. He howled, throat strained, then merely bucked, vocal chords shredded through overuse and the effects of the spell.
“The Death Eaters will enjoy watching you, and hearing you, Potter, but I have no wish to do so. You must learn to endure. Learn to not respond.”
Snape was still bending over the lad when he realised Harry was trying to control himself, to stop yelling and speak.
Harry’s mouth moved. Slowly. Painfully. Blood streamed from the corners where he had torn the skin stretching his lips in howls of horror.
Snape bent low, removing the curse so that he could listen.
“How … how will that … help? They’ll just … just hurt me … more.” A long pause whilst Harry struggled for breath, “To make me scream.”
Snape sneered. He lifted his wand so that it pointed straight between the boy’s eyes. Harry flinched.
“I am not touching you, not harming you in any way, yet you stare at me with fear in your eyes. The Death Eaters will love that. You cannot allow yourself to be the victim.”
“How?” Harry croaked, “You can do what you like to me.” He gasped for breath, “Malfoy tort…” he stopped, eyes tearing, “tortured me,” his control, what little was left, was vanishing, “Voldemort would have let every man there rape me.” His voice, as broken and tormented as it was, rose to a scream, “How am I anything but a victim?!” He didn’t even realise that tears were flowing over his cheeks until they fell into the cuts in his mouth, stinging. One more minor hurt in a body ruined by major ones.
Snape lowered the wand, speaking softly, almost gently. “Potter, remember why you are doing this: the Weasley boy cannot take what you do, what you have. You are going to save yourself and you are protecting him.”
“Protecting him?!” Harry laughed hysterically, tears still flowing silently from his green eyes, “I can’t protect myself; how can I protect him? I can’t even save myself. I can’t save him, I can’t.”
“You can, and you will.” Snape’s voice was implacable, eyes black and comfortless to the boy spinning helplessly in a world of pain and fear and loss.
“I can’t.” Harry moaned, hands clawing at the stonework.
Snape sneered coldly. Then he sighed. “Do you want him to suffer?”
“Yes!” Harry screamed. “I can’t take anymore! Let him suffer. I don’t care! I’ve had enough! I can’t take anymore!”
He howled, animalistic and beyond help. “Hurt him.” He choked. “Not me.” His voice trailed off, still begging weakly, “Not me … Not me.”
END OF PART ONE
WARNING: Unpleasant fic. You know the score.
Chapter 9: I fall because I let go
Harry shook weakly at the words. Snape was going to ‘train’ him? To do what? To like what Snape and Malfoy had done to him? To want to be violated and abused and tortured? He choked back a sob, hating his own weakness. He couldn’t take more of their treatment; it was beyond his strength, beyond his capabilities to understand. What did they gain from treating him so cruelly?
“Power.” Snape responded, as Harry had unconsciously voiced the last statement in a pain wracked voice.
“Control.” He went on, pacing across the room to collect the training equipment.
“Pleasure.” He added as he returned and stood looking down at the shivering figure on the floor.
“You will die here, Potter. Die here begging for mercy and for help that cannot come.”
Harry sobbed once, deep in his throat, like a dumb beast beaten for it knew not what.
“Or, you will escape.” Snape glowered down at the boy, eyebrows drawn low over his unfathomable eyes. “Perhaps one day rescue will come.” The older man sounded dubious. “But you must still be here to be rescued. Therefore you must learn to survive what they will do to you.”
He pointed his wand at Harry and watched expressionlessly as the youth shrieked and writhed uselessly on the floor, twisting and turning like a trapped animal, seeking freedom, an end to the pain burning into his overtaxed muscles and, it felt like, slashing the bone from his arms. He howled, throat strained, then merely bucked, vocal chords shredded through overuse and the effects of the spell.
“The Death Eaters will enjoy watching you, and hearing you, Potter, but I have no wish to do so. You must learn to endure. Learn to not respond.”
Snape was still bending over the lad when he realised Harry was trying to control himself, to stop yelling and speak.
Harry’s mouth moved. Slowly. Painfully. Blood streamed from the corners where he had torn the skin stretching his lips in howls of horror.
Snape bent low, removing the curse so that he could listen.
“How … how will that … help? They’ll just … just hurt me … more.” A long pause whilst Harry struggled for breath, “To make me scream.”
Snape sneered. He lifted his wand so that it pointed straight between the boy’s eyes. Harry flinched.
“I am not touching you, not harming you in any way, yet you stare at me with fear in your eyes. The Death Eaters will love that. You cannot allow yourself to be the victim.”
“How?” Harry croaked, “You can do what you like to me.” He gasped for breath, “Malfoy tort…” he stopped, eyes tearing, “tortured me,” his control, what little was left, was vanishing, “Voldemort would have let every man there rape me.” His voice, as broken and tormented as it was, rose to a scream, “How am I anything but a victim?!” He didn’t even realise that tears were flowing over his cheeks until they fell into the cuts in his mouth, stinging. One more minor hurt in a body ruined by major ones.
Snape lowered the wand, speaking softly, almost gently. “Potter, remember why you are doing this: the Weasley boy cannot take what you do, what you have. You are going to save yourself and you are protecting him.”
“Protecting him?!” Harry laughed hysterically, tears still flowing silently from his green eyes, “I can’t protect myself; how can I protect him? I can’t even save myself. I can’t save him, I can’t.”
“You can, and you will.” Snape’s voice was implacable, eyes black and comfortless to the boy spinning helplessly in a world of pain and fear and loss.
“I can’t.” Harry moaned, hands clawing at the stonework.
Snape sneered coldly. Then he sighed. “Do you want him to suffer?”
“Yes!” Harry screamed. “I can’t take anymore! Let him suffer. I don’t care! I’ve had enough! I can’t take anymore!”
He howled, animalistic and beyond help. “Hurt him.” He choked. “Not me.” His voice trailed off, still begging weakly, “Not me … Not me.”
END OF PART ONE